When Autumn Came
by TWC - Cathy
Summary: This is a one off story suggesting a different reason that Javert was in the red light district on the day Fantine was attacked, and also gives a different reason why he followed Valjean and Cosette to Paris. Based on the stage play (with Philip Quast as


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When Autumn Came

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A/N: This story suggests a different reason that Javert was in the red light district on the day Fantine was attacked, and also gives a different reason why he followed Valjean and Cosette to Paris. Based on the stage play (with Philip Quast as my template for Javert), not the novel (which I'm ashamed to say I've never read) and I have used much artistic licence.

It was a coincidence that he also found Valjean on that awful day. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet it was given as proof of his dogged determination to track Valjean down. If only they had known the truth.

The story goes back further, to the time when even he, Javert, had been guilty of sin and weakness. He was a young policeman, around thirty years of age, when he first saw her. 

He had been ill for a while and, because he had no family to stay with (his mother had died in prison). had stayed at a small tavern owned by her parents. The first glimpse he had of her, as she came into his room to bring his breakfast, the mid-morning sun glinted on her golden hair. She was not much more than seventeen, a child compared to him, but for the first time in his life he was inflamed with desire for a woman.

Oh, he had had women in the past. Sluts every one of them. He had merely used them to get rid of the vile urges that insisted on detracting him from his true path of righteousness, but he could not call that desire. That was an animal urge sent to remind him that he was born in sin and would die in sin.

She was different. She was clearly innocent, with a winning smile that warmed even the cold heart of Javert. She talked to him of her hopes for the future. Her parents had sent her to a convent school where she had learned very quickly to read and write. Now she hoped to become a teacher in the local school. He encouraged her in that goal. She would make a wonderful teacher, he told her. She listened patiently as he explained to her how important it was to bring children up in the Lord's way. 

Little did he know that since then the Thenardiers had conned her parents out of their living, leaving her an orphan and struggling to find work in a factory many miles away. That wasn't the only thing he was ignorant about.

He had meant to marry her. He truly had. He imagined them living in a small cottage. Him keeping the law and her teaching children the right path so that his job was made a little easier.

The first time he made love to her, one day while her parents were out at the market, he was more bashful than she was. She was so fragile, that he was afraid of breaking her, but her urgent, needful kisses made him forget that she was barely a child.

"Je t'aime," she whispered as he entered her. "Je t'aime."

That summer they spent every moment they could making love. She crept into his room to sleep long after her parents had gone to bed. But Javert was a creature of habit and doctrine. The easier she was for him to take, the less precious her gift seemed to him. 

By autumn her lustre had faded in his eyes. He saw her as just another slut, easy and sinful. So one crisp autumn morning he left, without ever saying goodbye, little realising the trouble he had left behind him. 

Time had made him think of her more fondly. She was a warm memory for him on cold nights. So he began asking after her. Perhaps, he thought, he could persuade her to become his mistress. All thoughts of marrying her had long since faded. Now she was damaged goods in his eyes. He went to the tavern and found the Thenardiers. He did not recognise himself in the starved and battered child that answered the door to him. He learned her name was Cosette but that was all he knew about her. The Thenardiers gladly told him where Fantine was (at a price of course) but not her relation to Cosette. They were afraid that he might tell Fantine the state her daughter was in. 

Javert tracked her to the factory owned by Monsieur Madelaine, only to be told that she had been sacked several months earlier. It was here that he first heard the whisper of a child being involved. It still did not occur to him that the child was his. After all, Fantine had been easy enough for him, why not for someone else? He offered his services to the local police force. It was a good way of getting information from people.

When he finally found her, it was by the same accident that he found Valjean. He was in the red light district, contemplating easing his sinful burden with one of the women when he heard the gentleman calling for help.

Seeing Fantine's bruised and battered face removed all disgust he had about her newfound career. He knew that it was partly his fault that she had come to this. He recognised her but part of him was ashamed to admit that to the gentleman. She recognised him but was too proud to admit it was he who had brought her to this sorry state. He wanted to help her, and was about to take her away on the pretext of arresting her when Valjean interfered. 

Javert knew Valjean the moment he saw him. He had guessed that the man in custody was the wrong man. He knew Valjean too well. He had committed him to memory. He remembered every line on his face, every scar on his body. And now Valjean was getting in the way of Javert and the woman he could only now begin to admit that he loved. He heard Fantine mention the child, glancing at him shyly as she did so. Then he knew that the child she spoke about was his. 

Valjean had Fantine taken away to a hospital and admitted his guilt in the courtroom. He escaped, pursued by Javert. Not because Javert had any thoughts of bringing him to justice but because Javert realised that Valjean was the only means of bringing him to Fantine and his child. 

They met at the hospital, Valjean arguing that he needed time to help Fantine's child. Javert almost told him the truth. He had told Valjean about his low beginnings, he doubted that Valjean would be surprised to hear that he had a bastard child, but Javert was too proud. He did not want to share the truth of Cosette's parentage with a man he despised. Better to lock Valjean up then go and find Cosette himself. 

Valjean escaped, leaving Javert looking down at Fantine's lifeless body. He leaned over her and whispered:

"God forgive me. I will right this wrong." Then he kissed her emaciated cheek.

He followed Valjean to the Thenardiers, then on to Paris.

Now, he and Valjean stood facing each other at the side of the Seine, after Valjean had taken Javert away from the barricades. Should Javert tell him now? Still his pride forbade him. Javert's hatred for Valjean had grown even more.

"You are free to leave." Valjean told him. "I will not harm you. If you want to find me afterwards I am at…" he gave Javert the address. 

When Valjean had left, Javert fought with his conscience. What sort of father could he ever be to Cosette? He had failed her, only to have his worst enemy become the father to Cosette that he, Javert, had failed to be. Damned if he'd live in the debt of a thief. He looked down at the Seine, feeling its murky depths calling to him. 

"Forgive me Fantine." He whispered as he began to fall.

He jumped from the bridge into the cold, dark water, his heavy clothing weighting him down. He felt his head swelling as the water closed around his open mouth and nose, then covered his eyes. He began to sink deeper into the water. His eyes suddenly opened to see the ghost of Fantine looking at him, pity in her eyes.

"I forgive you." She said, placing her arms around his neck and kissing his lips. Her kiss seemed to breathe life into him. Her arms moved to his waist and began to lift him upwards. He felt himself rising up out of the water, his face breaking the surface, gasping for breath. 

He crawled out of the water some way along the bank, then lay there for a while, breathing in the cold night air. 

"Cosette." He gasped, before lifting himself up off the ground and running off into the night. 

It would take him time to recover, but he knew now what his real purpose was. Why he had felt the need to follow Valjean all these years. Valjean was old. Older than Javert, and was near death. Javert, who had always been so impatient, was willing to wait until the time when he could take his rightful place as Cosette's father.

The end.

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End file.
